"Oh." He's confused why she didn't kill them too, but he supposes it's not like they're a threat to her even with their weapons, and maybe she just doesn't like killing people. Father didn't, though he never really said so out loud, you could just tell by his face. This is probably why Father died, really. "If you got their weapons can I have one." 

"Yes." She hands him a pack and the sad little daggers. "I'll make you a better one, once we're in a city."

He unknots his wet scarf-thing and shakes it out and reties it around the daggers and then over his shoulder. He opens the pack and looks in it, lights up when he sees the bread, he's not even hungry right now because they just stopped for lunch and he's not sure if he's ever had food that was his, that he could eat right now if he wanted to, but he's not hungry. He almost eats it anyway just because it might somehow disappear, but holds back. 

"Are we keeping going to the city now." 

"When you're ready. Do you - have any Gifts other than mage-gift, do you know, can you hear peoples' thoughts or anything..."

"- Is that different magic? I do sometimes - I did - but I haven't - it stopped working–"

It was never something that worked very well, it would be too loud and distracting or else vague and indistinct and as though he couldn't make it focus, but sometimes he could imagine pulling his wrap over his head and making it softer. And then when his mother died - was dying, it took a long time - it was working too much and he couldn't make it stop and it hurt and she was so scared and sad and he wasn't allowed to go in... And he remembers trying to curl up smaller and smaller until everything went away, and since then he hasn't heard any thoughts.

It doesn't matter, anyway, everyone here he's known all his life and none of their thoughts would ever be surprising, and after Mother died he told Chief he wouldn't go on raids anymore, which of course made everyone think he was a coward, but - he's going to leave, and come back stronger and fix things, but he can't do that if he gets himself stupidly killed. Father died on a raid. It's not like the thoughts-part was really good for that either, it's not like it's news to him that the boys from other clans want to kill him. 

"You can use it to look for minds waiting in ambush," she says. "You don't even have to pay particular attention to what they're thinking, but if you can sense that there are minds there, you can warn me, and prepare for a fight."

He nods seriously, shoulders his pack and starts hauling himself up onto his ghostly horse. "I'll try. Can you not do that kind of magic?" 

"I don't have that kind, no. I can read minds but with a spell prepared in advance I can only cast a couple of times per day. You will be able to learn how to do it all the time, and pay as much attention as you want to and not more." And not read her, she has an amulet against it. 

He nods, and as they ride he tries very hard to make that part of himself uncurl, pretends that he's still wearing his wrap over his head but the fabric is thin and he can see light through it. When they next pass a family trudging along the path, he feels them just before they come into sight around a corner, and is jubilant about it. 

A mile later they're approaching the city itself. This is first noticeable because the river smells, like maybe they dump sewage or garbage in it. Then the path twists away from the river and becomes a wider, dusty lane, then branches off to what looks like an open-air market. Further off there are buildings, one-storey, thatched roofs, weathered grey wood. The streets also smell and there are flies. It's not much of a city, really, it can't have more than a few thousand people in it, but just the market still has more people - and more food - than Ma'ar has ever seen in one place in his entire life, and he gawks at it. And grips the hilt of one of his new daggers, tense in the saddle. 

"Let's get off the horses here," she says to him once they can see the city.

He gets down. Hangs very close to her. 

It's a pretty long walk from once you can see the city to where you're in it. When Disguise Self is close to wearing off she renews it. When they enter the market she casts Detect Thoughts.

No one is paying them much mind, now that they're horseless; they look local, and poor. Most of the thoughts are very mundane ones. This woman is worrying about her husband's gimp leg, the younger woman selling tomatoes at the stall over is fretting about whether they can afford medicine if her daughter's fever gets worse. The girl with her, who looks like her sister, is pregnant, she feels very nauseated and resentful of the heat and dust and that the stall next to them has fish which are supposedly fresh but she sure can smell them. She's wondering if it'll be a boy - she hopes so and is imagining a little boy - and if so whether he'll take after her husband, who has dreaaaamy hazel eyes.

The old man standing behind them has a dagger and is watching everyone for weapons, usually bandits aren't bold enough to come right into the market and try to steal their coppers - at most they'll filch a tomato or two from the basket while their friend distracts the stallkeepers - but it's been a bad couple years here and there are more bandits than before, young men who lost their farms, or whose families kicked them out because they couldn't feed them.

This young man with his sweetheart is thinking about going to the big city. He doesn't consider this town, Kanrata, to be a a city; he's thinking of somewhere called Anrod, which he's heard has real roads with real cobbles, and carriages on them, and most importantly it has the College of Chirurgeons. He's apprenticed to the herbalist but he wants to learn real medicine. 

Sure, she'll talk to him. "Excuse me, do you know how to get to Anrod from here."

He startles, stares at her. Thinks that she doesn't look at all like someone who'd want to go to the big city. "Yes. Why?" His girlfriend is thinking that the kid is cute though he looks underfed, and then daydreaming about fat babies, when she's married to a chirurgeon and they have a big house in the real city. 

"We want to go there. We have horses. Is there a road? How far is it?"

He doesn't really believe she has horses, surely her kid wouldn't be that skinny if she were rich enough for that, but he'll go along with it, it's not like it costs him anything. "Sure. You keep going past town," he points, "follow the river until the Three Mills, in thirty miles or so, then there should be an official road that turns east and you follow that. I think from there it's another forty, fifty miles but I haven't seen a map, I just heard it's a two day ride." 

"Thank you. And is there an inn in this town?"

"Not really, but if you need a place to sleep, Ma Okar rents out the loft above the tavern to visitors. Over there, you want the building with the awning on it. Where're you from, anyway?" 

"Kiyam clan lands. Thank you."

He nods. "Well, good luck with your travels." 

"Thank you." And she can go see about renting out the loft over the tavern, and buying dinner at the tavern while they're at it.

Ma Okar is an older woman with frizzy hair pulled back in a bun and muscled brown forearms. Do they have money, she charges ten coppers for the loft and will throw in dinner with that, but if they don't have money she'll let them have it in exchange for cleaning the place for her in the morning, mopping the floor and such, she's made that bargain with travellers before and thinks it's a fair one. (The floor does not look like it's been mopped anytime recently.) 

They don't have money but they can mop before they go.

Ma'ar seems very impressed with Carissa's skill at finding them somewhere to sleep indoors - he's never slept anywhere more indoors than a tent and is wondering what it's like. He's also impressed with the inn food, though by Carissa's standards it's fairly terrible, pease-porridge with vegetables thrown in, no meat and no spices, only some local herbs for flavouring. It comes with thick slices of bread, and even a tiny smear of butter on them. Ma'ar wolfs his down and then slightly regrets it, it's more food than he usually eats in a sitting and now he has a stomachache.

They both get cider to go with it, which has been stored for a while and is fizzy and mildly alcoholic, not enough to noticeably affect Carissa but Ma'ar is small. It's sweet enough that he doesn't mind the taste and gulps it down, thirsty from the day of traveling in the heat. After which point he's burping for the next five minutes and also mildly tipsy.